


Soft Trauma

by starrylitme



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Canon Disabled Character, Hallucinations, Hospitalization, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28413960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrylitme/pseuds/starrylitme
Summary: “You’re still so desperate for affection, Komaeda-kun.”“First Naegi-kun...”“Now Hinata-kun...”(An AU-ish version of the aftermath where Komaeda wakes up.)
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Komaeda Nagito/Naegi Makoto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 140
Collections: Quality Fics





	Soft Trauma

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is so old, like oh my god. It's not just pre-dr3, it's pre-localization. It's old enough to go to primary school. Because of that, obviously, it doesn't line up with dr3 canon at all. And instead of "Ultimate" I used "SHSL" which is short for Super High School Level. I remember when I used to be bothered by the whole "Ultimate" title thing. I don't mind it now but I don't have the patience to swap out the terms, sorry.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy this senior citizen fic that I randomly decided to finish yesterday. Woot.

“Are you alright?” That person asks him, and the look Komaeda is on the end of receiving is...strange, to say the least. He wouldn’t call it particularly _caring_ —but the concern was _clear_. It was...a very obscured gaze, though it almost softens when Komaeda keeps gaping at him like a lost dog. “It’s...understandable though, right? With everything that’s happened, especially to you... But it’s over now.”

“I... What?”

“I don’t know what else to say to you,” the other continues on, and the softness is gone to be replaced with his expression pinching up. Like this feeble attempt at conversation is starting to cause him pain. “I don’t know... I don’t even know if I can forgive you. Do you remember _anything_?”

Komaeda doesn’t immediately answer—instead staring curiously at...him. With bizarrely long locks and dull red eyes. The question he asks... Komaeda doesn’t know how to respond to it either way.

But he seems to...understand. “Right. It’s been rough. Never mind. You know what— _never mind_.” And annoyance sparks through his features as he almost jerks away and stops just in the middle of leaving. “You’re awake. Everyone’s awake. That’s all the matters. It’s over.”

“Over?” he echoes, and the other grits his teeth though Komaeda can’t see it.

“... _Komaeda_...” Komaeda flinches—because his surname sounds so dry. Like it’s something the other had been avoiding to say for a while. And though he clearly struggles with saying the rest— _just **Ko**_ **mae _da_** _is enough to leave him near breathless_ —he continues. “Try and get better soon.”

Komaeda sees him walk out of the room and close the door behind him—but he doesn’t hear a thing. Was that person a ghost? With the way that person looked, it could have been a demon—but no. No, he knows that’s not what that was. Demons don’t show such care, especially for someone like him and...

* * *

When he remembers, he rips out his IVs and leaves the hospital room.

To _where_ , he isn’t quite sure. He just stumbles in the direction his legs take him, holding his bandaged stump to his chest and staring at the ground all the while.

* * *

He’s still found, of course. But it’s not the person from before. It’s...someone else. Someone he knows but doesn’t fully remember.

“Komaeda-kun, there you are,” His sigh is relieved. Komaeda blinks the blurriness out of his eyes by the time he raises his gaze to the other approaching. Slowly. Carefully. His smile is small. Komaeda skitters back and further away. He still calls for him—but annoyance doesn’t touch his tone. Not like it would if that person— _Hinata-kun_ —were the one to have found him. “Komaeda-kun, please. You need to get back. You’re not well.”

“How do you know that?” he asks in returns, voice too dulled to even manage surprise. “How would you know that? Who exactly are you?”

This brunet— _it’s **not** Hinata-kun_—doesn’t lose his smile for Komaeda like so many others. No, he still looks so _understanding_ and it just makes Komaeda’s head spin more. It’s so dizzying, he might just faint and—then the other moves. And his hands are steadying Komaeda so that he doesn’t fall. Komaeda blinks a bit furiously, and for some reason, his heart is racing.

And this is familiar. He knows this feeling. He’s felt it before. He remembers that...

“We...were in school together? We used to see each other quite a bit, right?” He remembers this—between the wretched poisonous memories of her and everything else, he _remembers_ him. It’s fuzzy, but he recalls—though wasn’t he shorter? Softer?

He was still short. Still soft. But so bright. Was he always so bright? _Wait_ —Komaeda picks up a few more pieces— _the ones that don’t slice his fingers open and drip with his blood_ —and he puts them together. Back then, _this person had been_...

“We were almost friends,” the other says, wistfully and almost mournfully. It’s strange. He almost sounds like he regrets that almost. He shouldn’t. He really, really shouldn’t. “We were in separate classes, Komaeda-kun, but I did see you every now and then. Do you remember? You...” Here he laughs, more like chuckles a bit weakly. “You were the one who cushioned my fall when I tripped on one of the staircases. I was terrified because I thought you were seriously hurt.”

Komaeda slumps a bit and he shoves the other away, stumbling back as his hand shakily goes to the scars his hair hides. The other sees and his frown deepens as he approaches him again. Like he was approaching some scared, wounded animal. And Komaeda, really...

He wants so badly to be held.

“Naegi-kun,” he says—voice blank and empty but with trembling limbs reaching for the shorter, softer other. His voice scratches against his throat, raw and painful, but he can’t stop saying his name, “ _Naegi-kun._ ”

Naegi crosses the distance with ease and wraps his arms around him, whispering sweet condolences into his ear while he has to pretend said comfort doesn’t burn him like dabs of alcohol against his wounds.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” Naegi murmurs, and Komaeda freezes when he easily puts together what _that_ is. But Naegi holds him tighter so that his pieces don’t fall apart. “It’s done. You can move forward, just like everyone else.”

Komaeda sighs; nuzzles against him as his hand and wrist press into Naegi’s back. Naegi strokes his hair like it isn’t a knotted filthy mess thick with dust. Contrarily, Naegi smells fresh and clean—and that scent is almost suffocating.

As awkward as it is with their different heights, Komaeda buries his face in Naegi’s shoulder further. For now, the warmth is enough. For now.

* * *

Naegi leads him back to his room by hand—like a parent guiding their child. Komaeda keeps his head down, though every so often his eyes flicker up just enough to observe the curve of Naegi’s cheek and the shape of his slightly tilted profile. He also thinks he’d like to see Naegi turn to face him completely, and then he wonders how much he’d see if he was _closer_...

And he winds up so disgusted with himself his head drops back down and stares hard at the ratty shoes on his feet he used to be fond of.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi asks him softly as he glares down at himself. Komaeda makes a sound of acknowledgment, but he refuses to look at the other facing him. “We’re almost there.”

He hums in response, and Naegi continues. “I was thinking... I’m going to stay with you a little longer. I’d rather not leave you alone right now, honestly.”

Komaeda’s breath catches, but he only shakily nods instead of making a comment. Naegi must notice—the way his pale trembling hand tightens around his smaller, firmer one. Komaeda doesn’t have to see his face to hear the smile in his voice. “Alright then. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. And don’t worry—I’m not going to leave you unless that’s what you really need.”

_You should though. You need to leave the first chance you get, Naegi-kun. I don’t need..._

Komaeda can’t say that though—and the only thing keeping him from sinking is Naegi’s warm grip wrapped around him.

* * *

The problem _isn’t_ the fuzzy memories of the younger SHSL Lucky Komaeda knew and then a little more... The problem is that Komaeda can’t stop thinking about Hinata.

Komaeda already tries so _hard_ not to think about Hinata as he was in the stimulation. Hinata, who had a smile for him that disappeared as soon as it appeared—and yet he continued to approach him anyway. Hinata tried so hard to understand even when it was clear he never would. Hinata was nothing special. Hinata was too plain, too average, and ended up far too _important_.

But wasn’t Naegi like that as well? Plain? Average? Far too important? But, shamefully, the main difference was...

“Komaeda-kun, I got you some water. It’s cold like you wanted.” Naegi opens the door, handing him the chilly open bottle for Komaeda’s trembling hand to take. He smiles brightly, warmly, and Komaeda wonders if the water is magnifying the blush he feels rising on his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you, Naegi-kun.” He really is grateful, but the revelation comes as no less of a sinking feeling of dread. Naegi’s widening smile only certifies it.

_Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. But it’s not like I deserve it. Naegi-kun’s just being kind. He’s kind to everyone, no matter how awful or wretched they are. Still..._

The gratitude and dread mix with something _else_ and he begins to feel sick. Naegi responds to his thanks with a sweet comment of “it’s no problem”, but... It really is a problem. He feels sick.

He’s not going to say anything about it, though.

* * *

Naegi sees him and spends a lot of time with him. As much as he can. If Naegi ends up caught in something else, he still sends his wishes to Komaeda through either a letter or Kirigiri who sometimes checks up on him too. Kirigiri is nice when she relays the message but she looks at Komaeda a little _too_ carefully—and he knows _her_ talent _far_ too well.

Though Kirigiri isn’t so bad to talk to—she’s good at relaying information on things Komaeda is shamefully unaware of.

“Your other classmates have been recovering well—so we don’t have to focus so much on them. Hinata-kun’s been making the process easier, too.” Komaeda nods at this, and can’t even remember if he asked for this information. Everything’s been in a blur lately. But Kirigiri continues on informingly—how his classmates have been pulling through, and how even despite the awful memories that Komaeda’s too afraid to touch, they...still manage. Somehow. Though it’s not likely going as well as it sounds.

Not that Komaeda really wants a clarification. But Kirigiri tells him anyway, and he politely listens until...

“Hinata-kun asked about you the other day.”

He freezes, one good hand clenching bone-white in the sheets as he stares down at the wrinkles bleeding through and tries to avoid looking at the bandaged stump of a wrist where his other hand used to be. After a while, he shakily asks, “W-What did he say, Kirigiri-san?”

“He asked if you would be able to leave your room anytime soon. When he should expect you to be discharged.” She reached out, smoothing the tenseness of his fist with her gloved fingers. A gesture Naegi would do. “I told him that if— _when_ that happened, he wouldn’t have to worry. Naegi-kun would still be keeping a close eye on you, as well as the rest of the future foundation.”

Komaeda loosens his grip on the sheets, not even attempting a smile as he responds in a dull voice, “Naegi-kun really troubles himself a lot over me, as does Hinata-kun. I’d prefer it if they didn’t. But at least he won’t have to worry about it after all, right Kirigiri-san?”

“If you mean Hinata-kun, then I’m not sure about that. He still looked unsure, which makes sense. Even as I explained more thoroughly, he looked unsure.” She’s blunt in her explanations—observational and unbiased. Even if the explanation makes him feel uneasy, he appreciates that she’s so concise. “Do you want to know anything else?”

“Not really.” He’s a bit blunt himself. He gets that. “Thank you, Kirigiri-san.”

She gives him a slight smile, but it’s one that has him seize up for a moment. Because he recognizes this expression. He’s never talked to Kyouko Kirigiri before encountering her as SHSL Despair, but he knows almost instinctively that he’s seen this look. Considering who she _is_ , it isn’t hard to figure out where.

“Is something wrong, Komaeda-kun?” The smile is gone, and she looks a little worried. Komaeda immediately shakes his head.

_She’s still being kind. The last thing I should do is upset her._

“Don’t worry about it. I just... My mind went blank for a moment. Please don’t worry about it, Kirigiri-san.” He winces when he says her surname like that, and her expression doesn’t change. His heart raced with the very real possibility she saw through him anyway—but then she only nods.

“It seems we’re going to have to keep a better eye on you,” Kirigiri notes, almost sighing. “Though Naegi-kun’s optimistic about you, Komaeda-kun.”

He almost laughs at that, a smile cracking at his dry lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from SHSL Hope. I envy him—being able to retain such faith in someone like me...”

Kirigiri doesn’t say anything in response. But she takes the water by his stand and refills it. Then she rummages through the cabinets to find the appropriate medicine to take with it. Komaeda’s smile starts to fade.

“Here,” she offers, and he takes it immediately, swallowing down the pills with large gulps of the clean, cold water.

His stomach churns unpleasantly, but he thanks her politely all the same.

* * *

He ends up vomiting just as Naegi returns, and Naegi rubs soothing circles into his back and holding back his hair as he heaves over a trashcan. It helps because Naegi immediately shushes any self-deprecation that falls from his lips like further bile.

“We’ll get you something for nausea, Komaeda-kun.” Naegi says kindly, handing him some napkins to wipe his mouth off. Komaeda does so, and Naegi starts tugging him to get to the bathroom so that he can brush his teeth. Or maybe Naegi’s going to do that for him. The thought drags him down.

“You know,” Naegi murmurs as he helps him walk. “It’s alright to lean on me if you need it.”

Komaeda does. Though all it does is help him fall further.

No matter what medication they give him, the sickness never fades either way.

* * *

Things get worse when his dreamless nights disappear. He ends up dreaming a lot more than he wants—remembering things he really doesn’t want to think too much about.

His death in the stimulation comes up a lot—and it’s bizarre because he’d been resolute in the procedures. He wasn’t scared of dying, not if it was for a purpose. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—that he didn’t scream through the tape over his mouth. That he didn’t nearly choke through tears the second his lungs were filled with that poison.

That he didn’t have regrets and at the time, couldn’t stop thinking about...

...Hinata showed up in his dreams too. Hinata taking his hand as he pulled him up from the beach. Hinata fretting so much as they walked that he kept bumping shoulders with him. Hinata standing before him, looking torn with wariness and worry, and Komaeda unable to stop thinking that he might really...

Hinata with long black hair and red eyes piercing into him. Red. Red eyes. Red eyes piercing into him—red _nails_ digging into him.

Komaeda halts his thoughts then and there and proceeds to risk overdose on sleeping pills so that he can pass out and fall into the void rather than getting dragged down there.

* * *

Admittedly that wasn’t the best option.

“Komaeda-kun, if you’re having trouble with sleeping, just say so!” Naegi actually looks angry—frazzled and...worried. Was he scared? It was just a few more days spent hospitalized, thankfully, and while it’s a bit disappointing, Naegi still... “Please. You have to say something when something is wrong.”

He really doesn’t understand and Naegi’s voice gets softer. “I don’t know how much you remember what happened at the academy—but I do. I don’t want it to happen again. I don’t want to see anyone go through that ever again. Especially not you—not again.”

“Naegi-kun...” His voice still sounds dead to his own ears and that just makes it worse. Naegi actually starts to shake as he reaches forward to grip Komaeda’s left wrist. His grasp is careful, wary of the bandages, and Naegi’s gaze just lowers.

“Were you having trouble with nightmares? Did you get scared?” Naegi questions these things quietly, gentle but coaxing. Komaeda feels bogged down with each soft word permeating his mind. “If you need to talk to someone, I’m here. Please. I want to help you—and I want you to want...”

_I want you._

Komaeda silences him by placing a hand on his cheek, shushing him carefully, and Naegi looks eager to hear him unwind. To hear him spill everything he needs to—and Komaeda knows he’s only going to disappoint so he apologizes beforehand. “You don’t have to forgive me, Naegi-kun.”

And before Naegi can say anything else, Komaeda presses his mouth to his.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against Naegi’s slack, surprised lips before pulling away. “I’m really, really sorry.”

Naegi sucks in a breath, fights back the urge to bring his fingers to where he’d been kissed, and only smiles like he always does for Komaeda. It makes his heart hurt even more. “It’s fine. It’ll be alright, Komaeda-kun.”

There’s a tremor that goes through his body at those words. But Naegi’s perfectly willing to let it drop. He doesn’t say anything else and well, Komaeda won’t say anything, either.

Even though, if he remembers correctly, that was the first time he ever kissed someone. And to think, it was something he used to dream about a lot about. Having someone he _would_ kiss—kissing _Naegi_ in particular. Something he once accepted as an event that would _never_ happen.

Disgusting.

* * *

The day Naegi insists he gets up and walks around to stretch his legs is the one he wants to stay in bed the most. But only because otherwise, he really doesn’t care as long as he doesn’t risk having to perhaps encounter his old classmates. It’s cowardly, of course, but he can’t...

He gives in but refuses to use a crutch so Naegi sticks by just a bit closer. He would have been with him anyway—no one trusts him, after all. It’s fine, as awful as it is, Komaeda likes that Naegi’s there. He’s a good stable point after all. SHSL Hope.

His lips sometimes burn with the memory of the kiss. But that was with _Naegi-kun_ , not SHSL Hope. _But Naegi-kun is..._

“Careful, Komaeda-kun,” Naegi steadies him as he stumbles, sighing as Komaeda meekly apologizes. “It’s fine. I’m not mad. Just worried.”

Naegi’s always worrying about others he really should be more apprehensive of. Especially when that other is Komaeda. Considering that he still _wants_ , no matter how much he tries to crush that yearning, Naegi really should be more uneasy than he is.

For some reason, it’s hard to say all that. So Komaeda just nods along and they keep on walking through the long, solitary corridor. The light shines in through the windows on the left side of the hall, filtering onto the tiles, and because he needs to stop looking at the ground to not look at Naegi, he glances out of them as they pass.

He stills to a dead stop in his tracks.

The first thing he notices is someone who has to be Owari, swinging her arms out and slamming them against a laughing Nidai. Even though she looked different— _thinner_ because Komaeda remembers that _she was the one who_ —there was no doubt it was her. They were being cheered on by Sonia, Mioda, and Souda as Tsumiki remained safely on standby tucked under the tree covers. Hanamura was given access to the grill, making what were probably lewd comments under To—the Impostor’s careful gaze. Koizumi and Saionji were chattering animatedly, and Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama were close together as well. Tanaka was more separated from them, though he wasn’t alone as he was just giving bits of food to the birds picking at the ground before him. No, not one of them was really _alone_.

_Except. Where is...?_

Souda turns to greet the upcoming presence. Long black hair was done in a braid—who did _that_ , Komaeda wondered—and Ibuki is the first to rush up and tackle the other into a hug. He turns around to his other classmates—no, _associates_ —and once Komaeda sees his face, his mind goes completely blank.

With his smile bright and wide and eyes shut as the rest of the group greets him and gathers around him, there’s no doubt for a moment that it’s him. _Hinata-kun_. He can’t hear what they’re saying or what Hinata’s saying, of course, but with Hinata’s grin on full display, he doesn’t feel like he needs to.

Hinata never was good at starting conversations, but his expressions were enough. Happy beams to let everyone know he was content—alert focus to show he was in deep thought or carefully listening. Uncertain frowns to show his worry. Gritted grimaces to challenge. Komaeda watches the emotions flicker across his face as keenly now as he did then.

That smile, though. It’s not one he’s witnessed often—mostly if not only small, almost sheepish grins accompanying shy gratitude. Ones that Komaeda could easily return back then. Back then. Now, though...

“They look like they’re having fun,” Naegi notes and it almost makes him flinch. Komaeda feels cold sweat run down his cheek as the younger gives him an easy grin that’s just like his—just like _Hinata’s_ —and... “How about we join them?”

_Hinata-kun won’t smile like that for me anymore. And it’s not like I don’t deserve it. But..._

_“Aren’t you going?”_ Hinata, looking at him warily and yet expectantly, and Komaeda could only smile. He can’t now, even as he says the same thing now as he did then.

“I’m not so unaware of my position that I can just walk out there... If I did that, I’d just ruin the mood.” The words come out easily, and he turns away from both Naegi and Hinata, staring back down at the cold tiled floor. “It’s nice that you think it’s so easy, Naegi-kun.”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s...” And because Komaeda can’t bear to hear him say how fine it is when it’s not—he just _snaps_.

So it ends up this way, with him pinning Naegi to the wall and desperately trying to connect their mouths together as he tries so hard to ignore the heat from the window beating down on his back.

It ends up _wrong_. He apologizes profusely when his chapped lips scratch against Naegi’s softer ones. But he pulls the other close when Naegi just gives his sweet, forgiving smile, and their mouths rub almost painfully together with his disgusting continuous indulgence. It’s like he’s starving and this is the only thing that fills his stomach—but the necessity is distorted into _greed_ and at this point, Komaeda doesn’t even _care_ if this overabundance causes his insides to collapse—he just _needs_.

So it’s more like a drug. A drug. Disgusting. **_Disgusting_**.

“Komaeda-kun,” Naegi sighs. Komaeda nips at his lip, teeth gently tugging at them and hands beginning to tremble as he reaches to thread his fingers through soft brown hair. “Komaeda-kun, it’s okay.”

_No, it’s not._ Komaeda shakes his head before pressing his mouth to his, muting anything else from coming out. _Don’t. It’s not._

Naegi responds, pressing back and steadying him with hands on his shoulders. Somehow that undoes him even more—and Komaeda gives a desperate moan.

“It’s alright,” Naegi pushes him away gently when he presses into him harder, the meeting between their lips nearly suffocating even as he greedily tries to take in more. Komaeda’s breathing harshly, drinking gulps of air and trembling like an addict going through withdrawal. It’s disgusting. It must be sickening to look at.

“I-I’m...” His forehead falls into the curve of Naegi’s shoulder. His neck hurts from having to lean, but he can only pull the other closer. “I’m... _I’m_...”

Naegi holds him in the hallway like he did the first day, the same gentle comfort and loving condolences. He strokes his hair, careful not to get caught on any unsightly knots, and Komaeda’s shaking in his arms like a leaf. It’s too bright—the light from the window, he can’t stand looking at it.

Naegi must somehow notice because he tugs Komaeda back to his room a little later with not much else.

* * *

He pulls Naegi practically on top of him when he’s back on his bed, connecting their mouths and needing this far more than he needs the image of Hinata’s bright smiling face on someone with long black hair. There are other things too—how this feels like compensation for a time before all that, those memories he does have of Naegi where Hinata isn’t there. This isn’t a surprise because Hinata is not and was never an elite.

He’s nothing special. No talent. And yet.

“Komaeda-kun, enough,” Naegi parts from him, placing his fingers over Komaeda’s quivering lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About what? What is there to talk about?” Komaeda asks, attempting a smile but it withers on the spot. He wants to run a hand through his hair, but doing so would require relinquishing the grip he has on Naegi’s shirt. He shakes his head at the idea, though it makes Naegi’s frown deepen a bit. “It’s impudent though, isn’t it, that I’m even doing this. It’s audacious, unthinkable, and I don’t know why I...”

“Komaeda-kun, it’s alright.”

“Why do you always say that? As much as I respect you, Naegi-kun, even _I_ know you’ve got that _wrong_. It’s not alright.” Komaeda laughed, wheezy and awful and it hurt his throat. Naegi doesn’t even look afraid, not like Hinata did. “It’s not alright because I’m still _here_. I’m still _alive_. After everything I’ve done, I _should_ be dead by now—I think I _ought_ to be dead.”

Naegi grips his shoulders, and before he can so much open his mouth to form a denial, Komaeda continues so that he can’t. “I know what I’ve done, and...when I remembered after you found me the first time... I managed to put the pieces together. I somehow managed to piece together the full extent of what I’d done. All I _ever_ did was play into her hands. Again. I was used by her—that person I hate more than anything...and I let her dig her nails into me and _squeeze_.”

She always held him so tight with silk-laced steel in her tone and hands.

_And I didn’t even try to fight her—I didn’t even try. I just let her do as she wanted—helped her achieve what she wanted, I just... I just..._

At some point, he just stopped struggling. He just let her do... _as she wanted_...

“Komaeda-kun!” Naegi exclaimed, and Komaeda was only vaguely aware of why. He was curled in on himself—arms wrapped around himself as tremors wracked his body without relent. His breathing quickened, grew heavier, and his face was wet with sweat and what might be tears. Naegi shouted his name again, and he curled in tighter, beginning to hiccup and hyperventilate.

_I’m not dead._ Yet he’s never felt less alive in his life. He’s choking on air, feeling like an old coat being yanked in different directions with each worn, ugly thread severing, and despite there being pain—his chest hurts, his throat hurts, his joints are starting to hurt—he’s losing more and more of himself with each passing second. _Not dead. Not. I’m not dead._

He hears _something_. Naegi trying to get to him? But it’s dark, he’s not sure, and he doesn’t know— _what’s even going on. I’m not dead. But. But... I should be. I really should be. I meant to be. I wanted...wanted..._

Then he just stops thinking. It’s too _dark_.

* * *

He wakes up exhausted. The IVs are back in his arm. His body feels like lead. More than anything, he wants to fall back asleep. Never wake up again until it was better. If it got better.

_But I’m not dead._

Komaeda lifted his head weakly, wiping off his forehead and blearily blinking at his bandaged stump of a wrist as it rested calmly against the sheets. There wasn’t any blood anymore—there used to be so much blood. His head really was starting to hurt. He needed to take something for that.

Oh, and something for his earlier freak-out. That probably worried Naegi. He doesn’t want to do that again: worrying Naegi...

Nae...gi.

_Where’s Naegi-kun?_

On cue the door opens, and Komaeda turns with an immediate smile. One that immediately falls from his lips as his jaw goes slack and curls fall before his eyes.

“Komaeda,” Hinata wets his lips, hand squeezing the knob of the door before he ultimately lets himself in, closing it with his back. “I...was told that you...”

_This isn’t a joke, is it? I know you’re cruel, Luck, but this is...pushing it. I don’t like it. I’m not happy with this—this is surely bad luck and that’s not **fair**... _But Komaeda forced a smile again, and his giggle sounded painful even to his ears. “Good morning, Kamukura-kun.”

Hinata stilled, and Komaeda saw anger flicker across his features—no, more like a kind of fury—but then Hinata steeled himself, yanking his hand through the long black locks and muttering, almost inaudibly to himself...something. Komaeda couldn’t make it out, not really. Just as he was about to comment on it though, Hinata cut him off with a snarl of his surname.

“Komaeda, just what the _hell_...” Hinata glared, head lowered and gaze almost glowing beneath his brow. A warning sign—one that would have been frightening considering the face. Hinata’s never made it before and, in all honesty, the actual Kamukura’s expression was threatening in a sense, sure, but more a perpetual state than anything else. Not to mention back then, Komaeda outright laughed at that face. Somehow he manages to laugh again here and it makes Hinata nearly tremble. But he doesn’t say anything, so Komaeda starts.

“You can here for something.” Even with a smile on his face, his voice sounds cold. He feels cold, too, and Hinata even froze with those crimson eyes going wide. He looked more like Hinata with that face. Komaeda’s tone grew icier. “What, exactly, was it that you wanted?”

“I...” He hesitates long enough.

“If you don’t know, then you should leave. Come back when you do, you know?” Komaeda nearly rose his arm to gesture, but stopped dead when he realized it was the wrong one. So he gives up on that and thankfully doesn’t stumble on his next words. “I’ll be here when you do. Perhaps.”

Hinata snaps out of his surprise and glowers again, and he almost reminds Komaeda of a cat in the way he puffs out with ire. It’s actually cute. Komaeda giggles into his hand and that irritates him further because of course, it would.

“I-I...” It’s strange Hinata hasn’t left yet. He usually would have at this point. Instead, it’s like his feet are still rooted to the floor, which is extra strange because Komaeda really would prefer it if he just stormed out like he always does when his tolerance for Komaeda runs low.

_Perhaps he wants answers. He didn’t ask for them last time and now is the perfect opportunity. I’ll give them to him, too, if he just asks. Maybe if I make that clear, he’ll..._

“Hinata-kun, if you want...”

“I was worried about you.”

Komaeda stills, expression blank with confusion. Hinata seemed to blurt that out without thinking. And before Komaeda could brush it off with an easy ‘no worries’, it was like Hinata snapped in that moment he was taken off-guard by the statement.

Because, abruptly after saying that, Hinata was shouting. “I was _worried_! I thought something happened when I heard about you blacking out after a panic attack and I—I got fucking **_scared_** alright?! You were out of it for _days_. I didn’t _know_ if you were going to wake up! I was worried _sick_ about you, Komaeda, and considering the _shit_ you pulled, I really **_shouldn’t_** have been!”

Hinata spews it all in one breath and at the end of his rant, he’s panting, breathing heavily, and Komaeda can only stare at him blankly. A little bit later and Hinata chokes out an aggravated sound, covering his face with the action. He shakes a bit again, like despite allowing his outburst, that heavy weight on his shoulders remained, and if Komaeda had been in the right frame of mind, he’d be disappointed. Or would that have been wrong?

Though he does agree that, “You...really shouldn’t have been, Hinata-kun.”

“So you _did_ know,” Hinata darkly laughs behind his hand. He really does sound tired and sick of this. It’s not an unfamiliar reaction to Komaeda—he’s seen it before in countless other people but... “You’re _such_ a piece of work.”

Komaeda can no longer look at him. Instead he’s looked at his bandaged wrist again, lying without worry on the sheets over his lap. _There’s nothing to hide anymore,_ he thinks. He also thinks he really needs to have these bandages replaced. “I’m...fine now, Hinata-kun. Thank you for worrying about me.”

It’s just the polite thing to say. He isn’t sure if he means it or not—not that it matters, because Hinata can’t read him anyway. He even has that much more familiar look of frustration on his face at Komaeda’s platitudes. Nothing’s really changed.

“I really don’t get you.”

_But at least..._

“You try,” Komaeda manages a smile, and he actually feels it’s a bit more genuine this time. “That’s more than I can ask for.”

“Just like with Naegi-kun, right?” Enoshima sing-songs. “You’re still so desperate for affection, Komaeda-kun.”

_...wait._

Enoshima giggles brightly from where she was laying her head upon on his bed as Komaeda turns slowly to look at her. She smiled up at him, continuing cheerily. “Some things never change. In fact, isn’t this situation exactly the same?”

It was the same. Exactly the same.

“First Naegi-kun...” Naegi, who was nice to everyone no matter how wretched they were. Naegi still smiled for him even now.

“Now Hinata-kun...” Hinata was smiling so brightly with everyone else earlier. He’ll never smile for him like that though, never.

Enoshima’s smile widened, her index finger tracing shapes into his thigh. “Even though you went through the trouble of opening up to another person, the result is still the same. Isn’t that a shame?”

It wasn’t just random shapes actually. She was tracing letters. She was spelling it out.

“But now you have two people so I guess it isn’t all bad. Naegi-kun’s finally letting you do what you want, Hinata-kun’s even running after you... You could have it all right about now. So I guess it’s not so bad...”

She reaches for his hand—a hand that not only mirrors her own but is her own—and their fingers entwine impeccably. Enoshima held it tight, painted pink lips pulling into her brightest, loveliest beam. “But we know how this ends, don’t we Komaeda-kun? Don’t worry though, when you’re lost again after those two both end up leaving you, _I’ll_ be there. I’ll even hold you, if you want—I’m not going to leave you, Komaeda-kun...”

_It’s certain—that’s right. I trust my luck, but..._ “You lost.”

_She lost. She’s gone—she’s dead and she’s never coming back. This is wrong—she’s wrong. I’m not dead—this is wrong. I’m not dead, I’m not... I..._

_I want..._

“Komaeda?!”

Komaeda’s eyes shot open, and Hinata’s face was...close. Over him. Looking stricken and then relieved when he blinked several times in confusion. Held. He...was being held? Hinata’s arms are tight and warm around him, he can hear his heartbeat, and why was he on the floor in this embrace when he should be in his bed?

“Komaeda,” Hinata says, voice hushed before he lets out a heavy sigh. “You lied.”

_But she lost. I’m not dead. I want..._

“You’re not fine now. You said you were—you aren’t.” He’s all matter-of-fact and weirdly upset about it. But he’s still holding onto Komaeda tight like he’s worried letting him go will allow him to slip away. As if Komaeda has some other place to be other than locked up in a hospital room with only Naegi as his sole...contact.

_Hinata-kun’s here though?_ Yes, Hinata was here holding him. Naegi. Where was Naegi?

“I... Hinata-kun?” His expression changes, from that weird upset to pity, and Komaeda’s handled more carefully than glass as he’s lifted up—almost effortlessly on Hinata’s end, when was he this strong? _Surely not Kamukura_ —and Hinata lays him back on the bed, only flickering his uneasy glance to the unhooked tubes fluttering by the machines once before looking away in distress. “Hinata-kun, where is Naegi-kun?”

Hinata’s gaze snaps back to him, wide-eyed surprise before hardening into something cooler. “I’ll tell you if you give me some answers first.”

_Ah...huh?_ “Hinata-kun, you could have just asked...”

“They have to be good answers too!” What constituted as a good answer? But Hinata explained that. “I mean, I have to actually understand what you’re trying to say rather than you getting all wishy-washy like you always do...”

The frown on Komaeda’s face might have softened him a bit—making that sternness on his face fade, because Hinata adds in a much quieter voice, “Just answer me as directly as you can, please? I _want_ to understand.”

Komaeda does nod, and the other takes a deep, deep breath.

“Did you really want me dead?” Hinata asks, still all quiet. “Did you want us _all_ dead? Did you really want everyone including yourself dead _so_ badly?”

It’s strange. Strange. “I...did. I wanted...”

_To eradicate despair. To spare the world from more suffering. To end it. If I could. If it was in my cards. Everything I did played into that girl’s hands._

“Got’cha,” Hinata sounds both like he expected the answer yet it still managed to disappoint him. How boring. Komaeda cracked a weak smile despite himself. “Well, you didn’t get what you wanted.”

“Not entirely true. After all,” He turned that weak smile to Hinata, managing to make it a bit wider. “That girl isn’t here, is she? She’s gone. And she’s not coming back. I don’t even have her hand anymore. Of course—I didn’t get to kill her either. I didn’t even get to see her again.”

_That’s right, that’s right, that’s..._

“That’s for the best.” Hinata sounded sure about that. Truly...strange. “Meeting her was an unpleasant experience. You wouldn’t have liked it anyway.”

Komaeda laughed, and oddly...Hinata didn’t look scared. He still had that look of stern certainty and...strange. **_Strange_**. Was this really Hinata? This face... Komaeda isn’t even fully sure he knows or recognizes it. “Well, it’s a shame. But that’s that. It’s not like it wasn’t a possibility I’d die first.”

“You didn’t die.”

“I didn’t, did I? I failed on that account too.” _Everything I did played into that girl’s hands. But she’s not here anymore. She’s not._ “I...I want to see Naegi-kun.”

“Not yet.” Hinata has the decency to look somewhat ashamed, but his expression quickly hardens. “There’s another thing I wanted to ask. Nanami. Are you aware of what happened to Nanami?”

“That was after I died, how am I _supposed_ to know?” Komaeda whined. “Obviously, I’m aware she wasn’t _actually_ there, but that’s it.”

“That’s it?” For whatever reason, Hinata quirked an eyebrow.

“That’s...” He swallows and nods so hard that it hurts. “That’s it.”

_She wasn’t real. My efforts were utterly pointless after all. All I did was play into **her** hands. Are you asking me about Nanami Chiaki to make fun of me?_

No—Hinata wouldn’t do that.

He must have just really cared about her.

_Ha._

_Haha._

_Hahaha._

“I want to see Naegi-kun.” It’s funny, how he’s trying to smile and the efforts leave him shaking. “I want to see him, I want to see him, I **_want_** to see him.”

Hinata stares back at him. If his desperate face is being reflected back at him in those crimson pools—he doesn’t want to see it, so his eyes squeeze shut.

“I answered your questions,” he whispered, pitiful and childish. “Or is there something else? I would call you impudent, but given the circumstances... It’s just what I deserve, right?”

He hears Hinata’s intake of breath. He doesn’t want to think about what expression Hinata might be wearing.

“It’s not about that.”

“Why not?” He must come across as such a child. Such a stupid child. “Don’t you hate me, Hinata-kun? Surely you must. Not only did I try to get you all killed, but I was also just... I was horrible. From start to finish. I spoke of hope but I must have brought such despair. Not just to you, but to everyone, to...”

_To Naegi-kun, too. I don’t have the right to be alive. Not when so many others aren’t._

Hinata just sighs. Like this outburst is nothing more than a dull annoyance. It’s enough of an insult that Komaeda opens his eyes, realizing then that his vision has gone blurry with tears. It even stings and wiping his eyes with his ruined arm surprisingly doesn’t do much.

“You weren’t horrible at first. You helped me out a lot,” Hinata mutters. He’s almost awkward about it, but shamefully, the tears won’t stop coming so Komaeda can’t look at him properly. Despite that... Despite this shameless, despicable display... Hinata places a hand on his shoulder. It’s warm to the point of searing. “I don’t hate you. Not anymore, anyway.” His hand pulls away, and Komaeda can’t catch it. “I’ll...go get Naegi.”

And because he can’t fathom having the gall to ask the other to stay, he lets his left arm fall. But... But, but, but...

“Thank you.” The blur that is and isn’t Hinata-kun pauses at the doorway. “For not...hating me. I really am sorry about everything, Hinata-kun. I’ll... I’ll try not to get in your way anymore.”

Maybe, Hinata turns to face him. Maybe he doesn’t. Komaeda can’t tell, not when he’s forcing a smile as the tears keep on running.

“P... Please take care.”

It’s funny. Hinata almost sounds choked up. That must be a mistake. It couldn’t possibly be. Couldn’t.

_Let’s not think about it anymore._

* * *

Naegi brings with him a box of tissues. Kind, considerate Naegi. How wonderful he is—how wonderful he has always been.

_If only I fell in love with you properly,_ Komaeda can’t help but think. He blows his nose, and there are flecks of blood in the tissue. They’re as red as Hinata’s eyes now. _Before all this... I wish I had fallen for you properly, Naegi-kun._

“You’re so nice,” he can’t help but mourn. “I wonder if that’s because you’re SHSL Hope.”

“Oh, no,” Naegi laughs so easily. “I’m still as normal as I’ve always been.”

_Turning her away when the rest of the world fell to her heels isn’t normal._

“Naegi-kun...” He dabs at his eyes before crumbling up the tissue in his hand. “To someone like me, you’re a superhero.”

“I’m just a guy, I swear.” He believed Naegi _meant_ that. So, what was he supposed to think? “Komaeda-kun, I...” What was he supposed to think when Naegi looked uncomfortable, not just uncomfortable but unsure. “I want to help you not just because we were schoolmates, once, but because it’s just the right thing to do.”

What was he supposed to say to _that_?

_Perhaps... Naegi-kun is exceptionally foolish. But..._

“You wouldn’t be yourself if you abandoned anyone,” he murmured, a sardonic smile pulling at his lips. “I hate that. I hate that so much. It actually makes me feel even lower than trash.”

“S-Sorry!” Naegi really does look so apologetic. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad!”

“Of course not,” Komaeda sighed, and because Naegi was so close, because Naegi was hovering, Komaeda had the opportunity to kiss his cheek. And he took it. Inelegant and quick, a soft smack of his lips when the pressed against Naegi’s soft, round cheek. “Actually, you make me feel so good that I feel even worse. There’s no winning with someone like me. I’m just the worst, huh?”

He keeps talking, but Naegi is flushed so brilliantly. It’s funny.

_He does look normal like this._

“I’m the worst,” he reiterates, and he wants to cry again but he can’t stop himself, “I like you—a lot. I love you, even.”

_It’s normal to be afraid of rejection,_ he thinks, heart pounding so painfully. _It’s normal, normal, normal, that’s why I can’t..._

He can’t take it. Not here. Not like this.

Not when Naegi is smiling at him like that.

“Komaeda-kun... I...”

Not when Naegi speaks so softly, so gently, so sweetly—and takes Komaeda’s hand, squeezing. Just like how Hinata had squeezed his shoulder before.

No, _exactly_ like that.

Just like that, he can’t bear to think about it anymore.


End file.
